


breathless

by sylvermyth



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, M/M, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 18:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvermyth/pseuds/sylvermyth
Summary: Yuuri frowned at the figure draped over a chair in the corner, a grizzled Yakov warning gawkers away with a glare.“Mr. Nikiforov’s grown quite prone to getting the vapors lately.” Phichit was close enough that his conspiratorial tone traveled to Yuuri’s ear and no further.Yuuri’s frown deepened. “Lately. You say it like he didn’t before.”Phichit’s eyes sparkled. “Last month, while you were visiting your cousins, he was perfectly healthy. Maybe it’s the season.”A Regency AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason I only ever published this on tumblr?? I'm not sure if I'll continue it, but it was a fun little bit of writing.

Yuuri frowned at the figure draped over a chair in the corner, a grizzled Yakov warning gawkers away with a glare.  
  
“Mr. Nikiforov’s grown quite prone to getting the vapors lately.” Phichit was close enough that his conspiratorial tone traveled to Yuuri’s ear and no further.  
  
Yuuri’s frown deepened. “Lately. You say it like he didn’t before.”  
  
Phichit’s eyes sparkled. “Last month, while you were visiting your cousins, he was perfectly healthy. Maybe it’s the season.”  
  
Yuuri bit his lip. “It has gotten quite warm.” He brushed a hand over the front of his jacket, one that he’d just gotten from the tailor. The fabric was light, the cut more than satisfactory. It was, by his standards, his best, but nothing compared to the elegant cut of Victor’s suit.  
  
Even with his eyes fluttering open to consciousness, Victor was the most graceful man in the room, the most put-together. Yuuri had, for several years, aspired to be the gentleman that Victor was. Not, per se, to garner attention in a crowded room, but rather, to be able to walk side-by-side by the man, as an equal.  
  
It was no secret, to those who knew him, that Yuuri admired Victor.  
  
It was probably Yuuri’s imagination that Victor’s eyes, once they’d focused again, found Yuuri’s own, blue drawing in brown, but he ducked behind Phichit, anyway, and drew his friend toward the open courtyard.  
  
Phichit made conciliatory noises at first, but was quick to greet others that had already milled out among the greenery, Yuuri like a quiet shadow behind him.  
  
Yuuri didn’t expect the card that greeted him the next morning, delivered shortly after the paper. Mrs. Katsuki smiled as she handed it over.  
  
“Yuuri, this is addressed to you.”  
  
Yuuri furrowed his brow, not recognizing the looping script spelling out his name. Curious, he slid his finger under the seal to open it.  
  
Dear Mr. Katsuki,  
  
I’m afraid I was amiss last evening and failed to greet you properly at Mr. Popovich’s dinner party. I do hope you will join me for a stroll this afternoon, around 2 o’clock, so that I may make amends for this slight.  May I call on you then?  
  
Awaiting your answer with bated breath,  
  
V. Nikiforov  
  
Yuuri blinked, rubbed his eyes, and read the note over again. It was true, he and Victor hadn’t spoken the night before, though Yuuri would hardly have considered it a breach of manners, considering they had barely spoken beyond an introduction the year before. They were hardly even acquaintances, and Yuuri figured he didn’t warrant a personal greeting and conversation, except perhaps the briefest of nods.  
  
And yet here was a card, sitting on the table next to his breakfast tea, inviting Yuuri out—specifically and only Yuuri—for a stroll, one-on-one, with Victor Nikiforov.  
  
Yuuri chewed his lip.  
  
Of course he would accept. He couldn’t turn down _the_ Mr. Nikiforov.  It would be entirely too rude, not to mention social suicide.  
  
Yuuri scrawled out his response, then, glancing back at Victor’s neat handwriting, tore the card in half and started over, taking his time to form the letters.  
  
Dear Mr. Nikiforov,  
  
I assure you, I saw no slight last night. However, it will be my pleasure to join you this afternoon.  Thank you for the invitation.  
  
Best regards,  
  
Y. Katsuki  
  
Yuuri stared at the card for several minutes, working up the courage to send it out.  With a sigh, he handed it off before he could lose his nerve.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Yuuri frowned at his reflection.  
  
He’d chosen a waistcoat from last year, a cream brocade, and the breeches to match, a set suited for an afternoon promenade.  He’d received compliments on it before, so he hoped it would be pleasing to Victor.  
  
But, to his dismay, he realized that perhaps he’d been indulging too much at the dinner table.  Yuuri turned to regard his profile.  It would be passable, but the breeches were snug—not tailor-fitted, but closer, so that there was no mistaking the curve of his thighs and derriere under the fabric.  Yuuri sighed and pulled his coat on.  It fell past his hips, and at least disguised the fit of his breeches.  
  
“It’ll have to do,” he told his reflection.  Yuuri glanced out the window; his room offered a view of the drive leading up to his family home—which was thankfully empty.  He lingered in his room, smoothing over his waistcoat and tugging at his cravat, less out of concern for his appearance—he was as presentable as he would get—and more out of nervousness.  
  
The sound of laughter below made Yuuri pause, and he stepped to the window.  The stretch of packed earth cutting through the Katsuki estate was empty, but closer to the main house, a two-wheeled carriage was parked, the silvery horse hitched to its front unmistakable.  
  
Yuuri let out a noise of disbelief, and shot through the corridor and down the stairs.  
  
He nearly tripped on the bundle of brown fur that surged forward to greet him.  
  
“Makkachin!”  The poodle cocked his head and wagged his tail, prancing back to his owner.  “Mr. Katsuki, I’m so sorry!”  Victor stepped forward and bowed, fumbling his hat to the floor in the process.  
  
Yuuri, already flushed from his sprint to the parlor, felt is face grow even hotter as he hurried to pick up the top hat and return it to Victor.  He shook his head, dismissing any perceived insult.  “Mr. Nikiforov, I had thought it not yet two.”  He bit his lip.  “I didn’t see you come up the drive.”  
  
Victor accepted his top hat and smiled.  “Of course, I arrived early to greet your family!”  Yuuri’s parents beamed.  
  
“Mr. Nikiforov is quite a conversationalist.”  Mr. Katsuki nodded approvingly and patted Victor on the shoulder.  “It’s no wonder you’re in such demand as a dinner guest.”  
  
Victor flashed another bright smile.  “The secret is to always surprise the other guests!”  Yuuri raised his brows.  He’d certainly been surprised by Victor, time and again.  “Ah, Mr. Katsuki,” Victor nodded at Yuuri to indicate that he meant him, rather than his father, “if you are ready, I don’t want to keep you waiting.  Shall we?”  
  
Yuuri stammered.  “I-I—but you’ve been waiting for me—”  
  
Victor shook his head.  “Nonsense.”  
  
Mrs. Katsuki waved an encouraging hand.  “Go on, you young gentlemen should be out taking the air.”  
  
Victor bowed his farewell to the elder Katsukis, and Yuuri covered his head with the requisite top hat as they made their way to Victor’s carriage.  
  
“Ah!”  Victor said suddenly, clapping his hands together.  “How very rude of me!  Mr. Katsuki,” he spun to face Yuuri, “I didn’t formally introduce you.  Mr. Katsuki, this is Mr. Makkachin,” Victor gestured at the poodle prancing at their heels.  “Mr. Makkachin, this is Mr. Katsuki.”  
  
Makkachin sat in front of Yuuri, and waved a paw expectantly.  
  
“Shake hands, now!”  
  
“Uhm.”  Yuuri bent and took Makkachin’s paw.  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Makkachin.”  
  
Makkachin barked in agreement, and with a wave from Victor, jumped up onto the back of the carriage.  
  
Victor climbed up next, and offered Yuuri a hand up.  “I hope a turn about the park sounds pleasant?”  
  
Yuuri settled next to Victor on the carriage, trying not to wring his hands in his lap.  “Ah.  Yes.  The park.”  
  
Victor gave him a sidelong glace.  “Or perhaps somewhere else…?”  
  
Yuuri shook his head quickly.  “No!  The park is fine!”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://sylvermyth.tumblr.com)!


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